The Adventures and Memories of Ireland
by Pen and Paper Alchemist
Summary: The Adventures and Memories of Ireland is somewhat of a diary by the amazing Ireland and what he remembers from any time within his life. He has many memories of Britannia, his mother and of England, his older brother. *Important message!* The first few chapters will be K and K plus , but eventually this will most likely turn to a T, so just letting you know this in advance.
1. Chapter 1

The Adventures of Ireland!

(Why of course, for I am the wonderful and mesmerizing Ireland!)

I recall, when I was young and still friendly with all three of my brothers, we were out in the fields. Mother was in tending the home on the bright summer day. Of course, father was already in the pub with his friends drinking and gambling. On this day the grass seemed so green. England seemed distinctly less like a twat and somewhat less of a crumpet brain. Scotland was thinking of his past, he acted as if he was happy which he was more often then. Wales was just, well Wales. I lay in the bright clovers, my hands in the soft leaves, thinking about my relations with my brothers, mother, and father. At this time, mother was my best friend. We would talk and laugh for many hours in the wee hours of the morning. Scotland was quite a friend to me as well, talking and plotting pranks to play on England. England, the annoying one, he could just go suck a crumpet, except today. We talked and I believed we would actually be friends from there on out. Even though I was wrong, I like to think about that day. Let's skip the rest, England and I were just lying in the field talking, "You know, Ireland, we should stay out here all day." Began England. "We should, maybe one day, when we are older and have more horses we can hunt with the others." I said. "Yes, and when that happens we can go all day." Continued England. "Oh, look, another four-leaf!" I exclaimed to spite him. "How do you do that every time!" Screamed England. "England, you have magic, yes, but I have the luck, and without luck you could easily mess up a spell and blow yourself up." I poked. Wales and Scotland were coming over, they brought some bread mother had finished baking. Handing each of us a slice, Scotland asked us, "Mind if we take a seat?" "Why, of course, sit." I answered. "What say you crumpet boy?" Asked Wales. "Ugh, fine! Sit." Answered England annoyed. So they sat, and we talked and thought about our future together as a union that obviously never lasted. Late in the afternoon, mother called us in for drinks. We drank water, except England, he had his tea. By the time everything was done, papa Celt was in. He came in happy and well. He greeted us with, "Hello! How is my family? Britannia answered, "We're all fine and the boys have been out all day." "Great! What's for dinner tonight?" He continued. "Ah, yes, we have bread and soup tonight." Answered Britannia. After we all ate and talked, we all went to sleep. This is the first memory that Ireland will share today, I'm going to the pub and going back home! Hope to see all of you next time!


	2. Chapter 2

Adventures and Memories of Ireland

Ah, I'm back now. That was a good night at the pub, and a long hard sleep. Let's start today off with why England is my worst enemy now. Alright, remember last time, I had teased him about my luck? He took that to heart, a bit too much. For many years he forced me to search for the four-leaved clovers! He truly thought it would be so simple. Well he was wrong, after the years passed and everything with him had been awry for centuries, I snuck out in the night and swore my ideals to showing him who would get the last of it all! That night, the best I had since before England seemed to target me directly. It seemed dark, cold and silent. The night was young, and as usual England was too tired of making me work to stay up any longer. I had the plan mapped out all through and through. Every possible outcome had been calculated. I had slipped out of my locked room by pouring England's tea on the lock, and his cooking came in handy for the first and probably last time, it melted something in the lock and it opened with a nudge. The twit seemed to forget something that night. My childhood rugby closet was unlocked. His door opened out and his cricket bat was in there too. I put it to lock him in his bedroom. The hall was dark and hazy with dust because he hadn't made me clean yet. I made my way in the dark and down the first flight of stairs. Then, I heard a muffled voice say, "Ireland!? Ireland, where are you? My door is jammed! Get back here, stop trying to escape! Please! I just want you to be my friend!" Then I heard what sounded like weeping coming from his door. I contemplated for a moment, and answered, "Sorry, you jerk! I'm done being your slave!" "Please, I beg of you Ireland!" He cried back. "Not staying to hear his coming lecture, I started down the next flight of stairs. Seeing as I had no protection, I stopped by the mantel and picked up father's old saber and slid it into a hilt on my waist. I then used it to slice the door frame and kicked out the door. Finally, I continued out of the land of my childhood with a nothing but the sword of my father and the clothes upon my back. I went and made my own home and I live there truly alone now. I regret nothing of that night.


End file.
